


The Stupid Things We Do

by empereor



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Dark Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, More tags will be added as the story progress!, Necromancy, Nobody dies in this by the way so rest assured!, Not to spoil anything but someone's a king, Pining, Slow Burn, Very slow burn but we'll get there they'll be together and happy, kiho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-01-12 16:57:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18450773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/empereor/pseuds/empereor
Summary: "The list of things I do for you."Hoseok let his laughter spill out like water overflowing from a cup, in this case like the wine he had not drank from his goblet, feeling more alive in this moment than the years he had lived through, maybe feeling even happier too."The stupid things we both do, little King."





	1. Getting Lost

**Author's Note:**

> I adore you, rosebud.  
> And million of thanks for my sunflower and tulip!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever fic... Take care while reading.

      Freezing cold, the bone-deep chilling winter was giving way for the coming of spring; Hoseok realized this as he breathed in deep, and let it out, a small delight bloomed in his chest when he didn’t see his breath puff out of him. He felt like he was finally able to see what was in front of him besides snow and ice.

The stagnancy of it felt like time has stopped for him, but with it finally melting off, from when there were mounds of snow heaped up on either sides of the gravelly road his wagon went down on, there were buds of flowers and plants, innocent and fragile. What kind of flowers those might be he couldn’t tell, since they never really stopped for some sightseeing after all.

 

Whenever Hoseok tried to think back to his childhood years, it would all grow fuzzy, like films or pictures slotted in between others with the wrong dates, the wrong order.

 

It was terrifying, to not know. Sometimes he couldn’t remember anything at all from one period of his life to another, and it left him conflicted between wanting to know what happened to him, what caused his small family to tear itself apart, or to stay in the dark where it wouldn’t hurt him, to protect himself from the painful memories.

Hoseok couldn’t remember the faces of his parents, nor their voices too, but he distantly remembered how his mother used to hug him, and his mother in her lilac dress…

The rest of what he could remember were never the pleasant ones; how his uncle had showed up to take him away from— what he had assume— his home. Or, well... What was _left_ of it.

 

But, he could always distinctly remember, when he had turned 17, his Auntie Lee was crocheting a slipper of wool, fit for a baby, her youth still with her back then. She had crocheted it for weeks, to sell it at the faire. He had accidentally spilled milk on it, having tripped on his own leg, and his uncle raised his head, his eyes dark.

Hoseok saw his uncle winding his arm back, and he looked so angry, and his aunt was screaming behind him— _even though he apologized for it, his aunt was going to sell it in the faire, but it was ruined because of him—_

 

His uncle beat him unconscious.

 

And that was what it took. Pain, and letting go. It didn’t take great pain, and Hoseok had loosened his grip long ago, but that day Hoseok found out even if he did, he wasn’t allowed to really leave. When inflicted pain, Hoseok found he was able to cross over to the land of the _dead_.

 

The wagon suddenly bumped into a rock stuck on the road, and it shook Hoseok from his stupor when the wagon _shook_. He could hear his uncle yelling from the front, angry and loud, before announcing that he was stopping for the night.

And that meant sleeping out in the cold again. Though Hoseok knew they didn’t have money in the first place, he wished he could rent a room no matter small, and have a roof over his head.

Hoseok wished for a lot of things.

There wasn’t much that he could do though, except help his uncle build a fire at the moment, stacking the remaining wood they had brought with them to travel into a circle and lighting it to keep warm. The wagon was stopped next to the road, the three of them settling closer to the bushes, so that it would shield them from the night’s winds.

They never really stayed anywhere with the thought of not leaving. They couldn’t afford a home, so they travel from one faire to another to find money and survive. The winter had been especially harsh, and Hoseok really thought he wouldn’t cross over whenever he fainted from the cold and pain.

But every time, much to his frustration, he did. He’d wake up exhausted the next day.

 

His uncle and aunt gathered around the fire, but his aunt kept a good distance from him and her husband. His Auntie Lee, beaten into silence from his uncle, never spoke a word to him. Sometimes Hoseok wondered what her voice sounded like. No matter how many times he had tried to ask her where was his mother, where was he from, where was his old home, it would be met with silence.

 

“Boy.”

 

Hoseok tensed up instantly, but didn’t look up to him, didn’t _want_ to. His spine turned cold, and it wasn’t because of the clinging remnant of winter. His uncle laughed, ugly and grating to his ears.

 

“You will cross over at the faire the day after tomorrow. You will hear what the folks will sob about and bring peace for them.”

What information Hoseok could bring back from the land of the dead were never peace. All the truth he could speak would always be fabricated into sweeter lies from his uncle’s mouth and into the folks’ ears. Those poor people were the kind who had experienced loss in their families, death of a loved one, and could not find closure to it.

 

So they had resolved to turn towards forbidden ways, to what his uncle claimed to be _necromancy,_ and they would believe it in a heartbeat with how desperate they were, even when acts of black magic could cost their life. Still, that was where his uncle pushed Hoseok into the picture for them to latch on to, a sick kind of hope that they would be able to contact their loved one for  _one last time._

 

But he wouldn’t, Hoseok wouldn’t do it anymore, he didn’t want to be pulled into his uncle’s fraud anymore, _he wouldn’t, wouldn’t, wouldn’t_ —

 

But he knew he will. His uncle would make sure of it. Hoseok heard him laugh again.

 

“Good. Be quiet, like your aunt. Silence can be a weapon. Use it well. Good boy.”

 

Hoseok felt bile rise up to his throat, tears of anger pricking the corners of his eyes. His aunt didn’t have his strength though, and started to sob. But even then she was still so silent, distant and unreachable from Hoseok. He turned to lay on his back on the cold grass, and willed himself to sleep. He will surely need the rest when the time comes.

 

The next morning and the whole day, they had traveled down the dirt road from one land to another. They passed by the sea, the wind shifting and changing the air when it would pick up and breeze through. It was suffocating, to ride the wagon on the bumpy road.

But it wasn't unusual, since Hoseok had rode this wagon for as long as he could remember. It still made him sick when the wind blew and he could smell his uncle’s filth. Nothing filled the silence except for his uncle’s _savage_ singing.

 

When their food stock of plain hard bread had run out, his uncle finally decided to stop and rest at an inn, not so far from their destination already. Hoseok could still hear the waves crashing faintly outside the walls.

 

The inn was far better what than Hoseok had hoped for, at least for him.

 

His uncle’s stolen coins could only buy a meal for one, so the innkeeper had brought only one tray of breakfast for their table. Hoseok’s stomach ache, having had nothing along the road besides an old bread, and he was tired to speak up and beg for food. He slumped on the table, still far from his uncle’s reach, and stifled a sigh. He heard his uncle grunt, but before he could say anything the door to the inn flew open, and the sound made him sit up.

 

“Ale, ale! Let’s drink and have a merry time! Ale before the faire!”

 

Shouts and whoops of agreement joined as a group of common folks walked in, and the innkeeper cheered as well, probably to entertain her new customers. The ruckus of it all made Hoseok alert at first, but seeing who they were, his alarm died down instantly.

The group settled for a table in the middle of the room, and their laughter only grew as time passed by. The group’s accent didn’t sound like the common folk from around the Land of South, but Hoseok dismissed it, fatigue clawing at him.

 

Hoseok almost jumped out of his chair when he saw a man from the group looking right at him.

 

No, not at him… The man was looking at his _uncle._

 

“Hoseok.”

 

_God what the fuck do you want you old bastard—_

 

“Go and buy yourself breakfast. Ask the innkeeper at the back and eat there.”

 

His uncle flicked a coin on the table, only a piece again, but he never broke eye contact with the man from the group. His uncle was smiling, and it was the most hideous smile Hoseok had ever seen, and he was more than glad it wasn’t aimed at _him._

 

Hoseok snatched the coin and stormed off, throwing his curiosity out as soon as he felt it. He exchanged the coin for food and gobbled it up standing inside the kitchen, giving himself only a second to savour it. Who knew when he could eat again after they leave this place, or if he even could. Seemed like this would be the last time they’ll stay at an inn before the faire.

 

The day of the faire came. It was also the first day of spring.

Happy birthday to him.

 

During the faire in the village, traders from all around the lands gather to showcase their items, calling out for the passing common folk to buy their goods.

This particular land was good for plantation, so vegetables of all kind was set up to trade with others or sold at a price the customer and its seller would bargain. There were also merchants and traders who brought wool, for inner-clothing, dye, cotton, and lots more that Hoseok couldn’t name, simply because he didn’t know.

What his uncle was here for wasn’t as bright as the calls of those merchant, nor as merry.

Their booth was set up far from the center of the village, the dark and heavy cloak draped over the frame would hide him easily. The small tent was immediately gloomy without much light piercing inside. On the entrance hung a wooden plaque that said For those, lost. A hidden message for those who had lost, so that his uncle could keep those who considered this a game out of his hair.

Maybe it was luck. Maybe Hoseok got lucky. Even though he never believed in it, that afternoon there were almost no folk that came into the tent. Hoseok had been hiding under the table behind where his uncle sat, and his uncle hadn’t come into the small corner and beat him up. He got through a huge part of the day catching up with his stolen sleep, since he wasn’t interrupted by his uncle.

 

But Hoseok awoke with a start when there was a shout.

 

“You lazy fuck, get out of here, find people! Bring them in or I’ll _kill_ you!”

 

If Hoseok hadn’t got to his feet on time his uncle would have beaten him up, to cross over or not. He ran out of the tent and almost yelled when the sun hit his eyes. “Piece of shit,” was what he could mutter, catching his breath before starting on his way to the village, his limbs aching from the way he was curled up for hours under the table. “Damn it.”

 

Hoseok didn’t want to find people. He didn’t want to be like his uncle. It frustrated him that this was the only way he could make money.

 

What if he ran away then?

 

The thought made him laugh bitterly. How would he _survive?_ He was all skin and bones with how little he ate. He would be gutted and dumped on the road by thieves before he could sigh a relief.

And, as much as he hated his aunt... He couldn’t ever leave her with him.

 

Hoseok had arrived a little closer to the main booths, pots and pans banged and voices almost blended together like a song with how high the people were shouting. He also overheard a loud conversation over his shoulder that the King wanted to come to the faire today. But before he could focus more to listen, they had walked away.

 

Hoseok never liked eavesdropping, so he brushed it off. Still, all the other noise and commotion hit differently, since he was so used to silence, shoved under a table in a dark tent.

He had forgotten who the King was. Or he probably never knew in the first place. His knowledge of the kingdom’s ruler and royal court could probably match a toddler’s.

 

His thoughts kept jumping from one thing to another, unfinished and abrupt. Hoseok didn’t know if he should bring customers for his uncle, for their sake and his. He stood rooted on his spot, staring at nowhere, feeling more lost out in the open.

 

When a hand touched his shoulder.

 

“Where are you from?”

 

The voice was close to him, distinct from the other shouts in the village, and this person spoke calmly. Their grip on his shoulder wasn’t strong, but it wasn’t loose either. Hoseok forgot how to scream.

 

“Why— Why do you ask?” He whispered harshly, but as clear as he could. Hoseok couldn’t move an inch, petrified of what would happen if he did, but anger coiled in his gut. Was he going to be robbed? In the middle of the village, with everyone around him? “Who is asking?”

 

But the hand on Hoseok left him as quick as it held him. Hoseok could barely register the stranger walking away from him if it weren't for the crunch of their boot on the ground. When he whipped around to see who it was, the man— yes, a man, it should be, his voice was soft, but still—

 

Hoseok could only see a stray hair from under the man’s hood that hid his face, and it was a shade of brown, almond? A brick red… Looked almost black, Hoseok couldn’t tell. The man wore a robe that reached the back of his knees, draped over him as he moved swiftly.

He wore blue, a royal blue, the colour didn’t stick out of the crowd but once it shifted, the inside cloth of it was gold. The man had stopped in his tracks then, and to Hoseok's surprise he turned around, just enough that Hoseok could see the bridge of his nose, the sharp end of his brow, his high cheekbone. But all of it was only for a moment as he walked away again.

 

It was pretty. The stranger was. And the colour that man wore, the gold-on-blue; really pretty. Hoseok was surprised.

 

Very pretty.

 

What also surprised him more was how he saw the man was just a tad bit shorter than him, and he disappeared when Hoseok was disoriented as a mother and her baby got into his line of sight. But he didn’t think to go after him, still standing in awe.

 

It was weird. He thought him having this, _curse_ , was weird, but this was really _weird_.

He could count the instances of when people would talk to him voluntarily on one hand. Most folk would look through him like he was air, like he wasn’t there. His only interactions with other people were his uncle and aunt, and the occasional cooks or maids or servants. He didn’t want to count the dead in that picture.

But who was that, that he got curious enough to ask Hoseok where he was from…?

Hoseok wanted to see who it was, wanted to know. Why was the man interested in—

 

“You.”

 

Hoseok swore and turned around, surprised out of his mind for the second time. Will it be the usual that people started to acknowledge his existence because what the _fu_ —

 

The voice belonged to a royal guard.

 

Hoseok wasn’t supposed to be noticed by a _royal guard_.

 

“Me?” He couldn’t stop the shake in his voice.

There were two of them, and they stood so close to him, dressed in armor of blue, and the one who spoke up was taller than both his companion and Hoseok. He realized, slowly, that blue must be the King’s colour.

And the both of them had their hand on the hilt of their sword.

 

“What can I do for you, Sir?”

 

“Where are you from?”

 

This question again. Did he look so disgusting that that was why he received this question twice? Sure, he was wearing the same washed-out shirt and pants he had all his life, but _please_ , give him a break.

 

“Not from around here, Sir… I’m a traveler.” Hoseok stepped back. They didn’t let go of their swords.

 

“Did you came here with the booth of fortune-telling?” The guard speaking took a step towards him.

 

Maybe, the guard weren’t asking because Hoseok looked too much like a peasant fool with no money. Maybe this guard wasn't striking a conversation for a fun time to tease him like he initially thought.

Maybe they knew who he was, what he could do.

 

_Hoseok, the necromancer, user of black magic. A crime that was fit for death._

 

His heart raced. He felt dizzy.

 

“I— I don’t know, Sir, I don’t know which one that’s supposed to be—”

 

“The booth with the dark, cotton cloth, far away from the busy part of this village.  _For those lost?_ ”

 

Hoseok shook his head, but his tongue felt like lead in his mouth. The guard who wasn't speaking before stood on his toes to whisper, never breaking eye contact with him.

 

 _“Hyung, just bring him to…”_   Hoseok could barely hear it with how loud his blood was rushing.  _“...See how it goes…”_

 

And then, the shorter man mouthed something, that made the taller turn to look at him, puzzled. It sounded like a name...

 

_Kihyun?_

 

Within a beat, they drew their swords out.

 

Hoseok bolted, not looking back. 

 

             Leaves and branches smacked him in the face when he couldn’t move his arms quick enough to shield himself.

Hoseok was terrified for his life thinking about what would happen to him if the guards caught him. He’d heard too much of his uncle’s stories about the castle and the King that he couldn’t think for more than a second the possibility that not all of it could be true.

But he kept on running through the forest wall at the same path they came down on the wagon to the faire, blindly trying to come up with anything along the way.

Coldly he was reminded that there were probably thieves and scoundrels, bastards alike inside the forest, and ran faster, choking on his gasps. He didn’t hear footsteps following him, only his own as he crunched on broken sticks and leaves. But panic still set in his mind because what if  _he_ didn't  _notice?_

 

Hoseok still came to a stop, shaky and full of adrenaline, when he saw the familiar inn.

 

As soon as Hoseok walked in, he noticed how everything was mostly the same. He could even hear the sea, however faint. The innkeeper greeted him although he entered silently, a smile pulled her cheeks up. Another chill pierced through him when he saw the group of people from this morning, seated farther away from their first table.

 

All of them brandished knives and daggers in their hands.

 

 

“You’re alone this time, boy? Do you have money?”

 

“I don’t, miss…” He panted, almost doubling over. “But I’m not here to eat, I just want to stay—”

 

“What good are you if you have no money?” The innkeeper spoke in a hushed tone, although it felt like she was screaming to Hoseok. “To eat or to stay, can’t do it for free, boy!”

 

“Not what I meant, miss. Please, please…”

 

The innkeeper was confused almost instantly, and Hoseok guessed she must have thought he started crying. But he didn’t, even though he  _could_ by then, the tension in his limbs from running away from the royal guards and later seeing a group of _highly possible criminals_ in the same room with him was making him sick.

He hadn’t run into danger this often besides of his uncle’s fists connecting to his face.

 

“Just sit down then, boy. I won’t bring you anything since you don’t have any coin, but sit down.”

 

Hoseok sighed, nodded. “Thank you.”

 

The innkeeper went away, and he was about to take a seat which was most certainly a great distance from the occupied table, when the door was kicked open with a shout.

 

So was everything going to happen _twice_ to him today? Maybe Hoseok shouldn’t have _tried_ to believe in luck. He prepared himself to receive a headache from the faire-goers who must have had strayed here, ale in their belly, jolly and stupid.

But the one who kicked the door wide open was far from jolly, nor stupid or drunk. The shout was a warning.

 

The royal soldiers were here.

 

       Hoseok was thrown to the ground, his limbs bound by ropes. The other criminals, _he was sure of it that they were,_ was also in the same position beside him. Dirt rubbed at his chin where he was held down. When he tried to speak he was told to be quiet even before he get the chance to open his mouth.

 

Hoseok didn’t expect the guard that spoke to him back at the faire was the chief in command of this line, but when he got a good look at him, he wasn’t sure why he would doubt it in the first place.

 

He felt like his lungs would burst. He couldn’t do anything let alone defend himself, so he tried to catch his breath before anything made him _stop_ being able to.

 

One by one the criminals were hauled up by the shorter guard inside the inn, probably the one called Jooheon. He’d heard the taller one, Hyunwoo, call Jooheon over a few times so it was hard to miss the name.

 

Those were the names of the ones who would probably bring him his death, with how things were looking.

 

When it was his time, he’d caught his breath and followed without fighting by the guard that led him. Inside the inn, he didn’t see any of the criminals. But there was a chair in the middle of the room, and it was bloody.

 

Jooheon sat him down on it, and returned to stand beside Hyunwoo.

 

“So, we meet again.” It was Hyunwoo that spoke to him, _again,_ though his voice was _colder_.

 

Hoseok couldn’t speak.

 

“We didn’t expect you to be here, you know.” Jooheon spoke this time. “We tried not to expect anything at all from you, but, well.”

 

Hoseok didn’t have a damn clue what he was talking about by that. And oddly enough, it was what got him talking. “I’m not one of them. I don’t even know _who_ they are, I don’t _know_ anything...”

 

“Then why are you here?”

 

Their eyes were like hawks, and Hoseok shrank in his seat, the ropes rubbing against his skin.

 

“I got lost.”

 

“You were at the faire.”

 

Hoseok sucked in a breath. “Yeah, without my will. Sir.”

 

Hoseok risked a glance at them. Jooheon was frowning, Hyunwoo almost as well. It quietened Hoseok more than he thought it would to see them actually affected by what he said.

 

After a beat, Jooheon spoke up, softer: “What do you mean by that?”

 

Hoseok had the thought to close his mouth first, less he looked like a gaping fish.

 

“My uncle. He...” Hoseok had to pause, his nervousness almost skyrocketing into panic. At least they were listening. “...He forced me. And my aunt, to come here. To make him money. That booth is his.” He bit his lower lip. He was trembling.

 

“What does your uncle do?” Jooheon asked, and walked to stand behind him.

 

Hoseok had to steel himself not to whimper. He was so fucking scared; In that moment his mind couldn’t accept anything other than the thought that he was about to _die._

 

“Fortune tellings... He’d use cards, he calls those tarot. He uses me to find him customers, and if I can’t he’ll b-beat me up, and my aunt.” Hoseok wasn’t lying, but it wasn’t the truth either.

 

Hoseok felt Jooheon tug on his wrist.

 

Hoseok writhed.

 

“Please, please! I’m not- I’m not, _I can’t_ , my aunt will be alone, with- with _him_ so I n-need to go back, please!” But Jooheon and Hyunwoo was silent, ever so silent as Jooheon kept tugging on his ropes. He couldn't feel his legs. His mind raced to the only thing he could think of, and before he knew it he had blurt it out loud for them to hear.

 

 _“I can cross over to the land of the dead!_ ”

 

Hoseok felt the ropes come loose completely and fall to his lap. The silence that came after his shout was deafening.

 

Then, Hoseok heard Hyunwoo say “You can _what?_ ” while Jooheon almost yelled _“_ What the _hell_ _?”_ from behind him.

 

Jooheon stomped to stand in front of him and held him by the shoulders, controlled anger under his lashes. “You told us you were abused by your uncle, we wanted to _help_ you. So what the _hell_ Hoseok?”

 

“It was the reason,” Hoseok gasped out, didn’t have the time to be grateful because of what they intended.

 

They wanted to help him.

 

He should had keep his mouth shut.

 

“The reason in the first place that he’s using me. I don’t know why I got it, or _how,_ and believe me even _I_ want none of it.” Jooheon only clutched at him tighter.

 

It was only when Hyunwoo pulled him back did he let go of Hoseok’s shoulder.

 

They exchanged looks, and Hoseok felt like the biggest idiot in the world over just how so much things couldn’t connect in his mind, this particular moment between them being one of it.

 

“Prove it. Since you said all that.” Jooheon had scoffed, and Hyunwoo crossed his arms.

 

“Prove it… Now?” Hoseok rubbed at his wrists, glad the rope marks were light enough to fade.

 

“We’re not going to ask you twice.”

 

Hoseok felt his head pound. “I’m going to need… Something. I’ll handle it. Please,” Hoseok brought his hand close to his mouth. The both of them might have looked a bit alarmed, but he had to do this. “Don’t stop me.”

 

Hoseok bit the meat of his palm. Pain shot through his hand and blood was in his mouth, on his tongue.

He heard Jooheon shout, but he had already closed his eyes and let himself go.

 

Hoseok crossed over.

 

_The experience was always the same. It was like the feeling of being buried, dirt all around him, pushing against him, encasing him like a cocoon, only it was tighter, and it made him breathless. He could hear every shift of the Earth, every grain moving as the ground swallowed him, burying him deeper and deeper and deeper until he was sure he would never resurface to see the light of day, the silence was louder than anything he had ever heard._

 

But only for an instance, however intense it would always be.

 

The dirt around him was gone, and so was the force pushing him.

 

The land of the dead wasn’t so different from the living. Hoseok was in the same inn as he was in with Hyunwoo and Jooheon, the same chair. The only difference was both of the guards weren’t here, since the both of them were still alive.

 

But out of the corner of his eye, Hoseok saw one of the criminals, standing silently, looking nowhere. He was dead.

 

The dead didn’t talk to him, and rarely ever noticed him whenever he crossed over. They also seldom walk far from where they died, always near where their body first fell to the ground, lifeless. Hoseok still had his bearings with him, and he walked out of the inn, looking for anything that might convince Jooheon and Hyunwoo. That _should_ convince them, without a doubt.

 

The skies outside was gray. This land would always look dull, and stagnant, colourless.

 

Sometimes, the land there stretched for miles long. A destination that should have a traveler arrive minutes by foot could take years. This time, the opposite happened as he tracked down the road. He never knew the reason, and never questioned. Ignorance was bliss. Not far from where he was trekking, he saw the sea, only the waves wasn’t crashing haphazardly against the rocky cliff. Hoseok looked about for a way down, since he had never been to the sea. Maybe he could find anything down there.

 

Surely enough, as he stepped down to the sands, he saw a lot of people already there, a blob of darkness forming with how still and close they were standing. Coming up close, he didn’t recognize any of them, but their clothes looked expensive, even almost like royalty. Their attire differed, but the cloth was of gold-on-blue for all of them, and it looked pretty weren’t it washed out by the sea. He felt pity, but they must have died long ago.

 

He spotted a woman in the crowd of unmoving people, one who looked older. Hoseok decided to try talking to her, since older people tend to be easier to talk to. He managed through the crowd, and held her hand. The dead didn’t feel pain, and he tugged at her to get her attention.

 

“Hello. My name is Hoseok. What’s yours?”

 

The woman didn’t reply instantly. Her eyes were glazed over, her hair falling on her shoulders. Up close, she actually looked fair, and beautiful. Only when Hoseok tugged at her hand again did she finally look at him.

 

“What do you want, boy?”

  
  
“Your name, my lady.”

 

The woman probably, laughed, the sound cut off short. “I’m no lady. Why do you want to know?”

 

“I need it. If you wish to not tell me, then…” He bit his lip. “Tell me of your past.”

 

The dead could only respond to him if he asked about their past, since it reminded them of simpler times. Hoseok wished he could relate to that feeling, and he didn’t exactly pinpoint why they liked the past so much, but right then he couldn’t be bothered to ask.

 

The woman smiled. It was the first time he saw a dead do that.

 

“I was a very important figure for six young boys. Even though I only needed one, they all came together, like they were never meant to be separated. They didn’t want to leave each other, even if death did them apart. That was how close they were.” The woman looked down to the hand holding hers, and looked at Hoseok. “They looked younger than you. They were just kids. I hope I raised them well.”

 

Hope.

 

She still hoped?

 

Hoseok pulled his hand back, tremors running through him like he was doused with ice water.

 

Going back to the living needed the same payment. He wanted to go back. Hoseok aimed his bite further up at his palm, and snapped his jaw close.

 

When he woke up, Jooheon was shaking his shoulders, yelling.

 

“—Wake up, _wake up wake up!”_

 

Hyunwoo slapped his face.

 

“Ow! What the hell!”

 

Jooheon let him go, breathing a bit hard. Hoseok held his face, the side he got slapped, and felt blood drip from his palm from where he bit it.

 

“What happened to you?” Hyunwoo spoke up, his eyes wide in alarm.

 

Why were they so afraid?

 

“I crossed over. I needed pain to do that. Thanks for slapping me, fuck...” Hoseok mumbled the last part.

 

“You…” Jooheon looked lost, but cleared his throat and nodded at him. “Go on then. Tell us what you got.”

 

Hoseok wrapped his bleeding hand in his shirt, the red staining it. His face throbbed in pain, but he bit it down to start talking.

 

“I found a woman. She was, pretty. And pretty old too, but she came up to my height. She wore a dress, her hair was long. I found her at the beach.”

 

By then, Hoseok noticed Hyunwoo and Jooheon visibly paled. He continued.

 

“She was at the beach. A lot of people were there, but I didn’t know them. Like I said, I’m not from around here. They probably passed away a while ago, maybe years ago, all of them at the same time. It looked like they all passed away on the beach, too, none of them had venture far. And she wore…” Hoseok finally noticed it.

 

“She wore gold-on-blue, like your armours…”

 

Jooheon whipped his head to look at Hyunwoo so fast that it made Hoseok jump, and they both looked at each other silently. Hoseok could never know what the both of them must have thought at the moment, and he readied himself to try and lie.

 

But Hyunwoo was the first to say “go” before Jooheon could open his mouth.

 

“What?” Hoseok tensed. “Can I really—”

  
  
“ _Go._ Before I change my mind.”

 

Hoseok got up from the chair, his knees shook once, before he ran out of the door and out of the inn.

 

When he looked back, he saw that they didn’t follow him.

 

This time, Hoseok was sure of it.

 

But, after all that. After all of that _shit_ , he was back to square one. He still couldn’t go back to his uncle, and he could never leave his aunt alone with him.

 

Hoseok hid in the bushes outside the inn, and waited. For what exactly, he didn’t know. The sky was darkening, and he was running out of options. Though he was sure he didn’t have much to begin with.

 

Horses trampled on in front of him, and it was already dark. Hyunwoo and Jooheon, along with their line had left.

 

He felt like his heart was beating in his mouth. Hoseok peeked up, and seeing no one was left there he sat back down.

 

It felt like this world had buried him in again when the corners of his eyes went dark. He fainted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh, much to think about.


	2. Found Guilty

      When Hoseok woke up, it was by a rough hand that gripped his shoulder and shook him until he was sure it could bruise. Everything was so cold, and before he could even open his eyes, he heard his uncle’s roar.

 

“Wake up, damn it! You damn fool!”

 

His uncle was yelling so close to his face that he got spitted on. But it was also raining, the drops like shards when it hit his skin and it started him awake so fiercely that he yelled. Disoriented, he was pulled to his feet. Instantly he put his hands up to cover his head from any fists that would land there, but his uncle had only held him in place and shouted orders at _others._

 

There were gangs of people, men that looked of different ages carrying torches in the dark, and all of them yelled and cursed to each other to signal about, _something_. They had horses with them, carrying a cargo. When their torches shone a little closely to the tarp, he saw silhouettes of swords, too many to count, and their daggers and knives on their hip glinted in the dark whenever their torches were shifted.

 

They all kept shouting orders to each other to do this and that, carry this and that, and they were all walking into the forest beside the road. Hoseok heard them clang their daggers and knives amidst the roaring rain, heard them scream out that no one will _survive._

 

The meaning behind their words, rejoicing in the fact that they will _kill_ made Hoseok _sick_ to his stomach. If he had eaten anything it would have been emptied by then.

 

But his nausea was soon replaced by another fear when his uncle pulled him again, harshly.

 

“What the hell you’re doing back at our base I don’t wanna know boy, but make yourself useful for _once._ Carry the cargo! Or I will kill you!” His uncle roared straight into his ear.

 

Something was pushed into his hands. To his cold terror, it was a dagger, heavy and foreign in his hold. The width of it was no wider than his forearm, and no longer than it as well.

 

And Hoseok was pushed again forward, the dark wetness had him walking haphazardly, and he wasted no time to tie the dagger with the belt of his pants as securely as he could.

 

He didn’t want to accidentally stab himself.

 

He could never take a wild guess to where they might be going, he didn’t even know there was a path inside where they were all trekking on, but Hoseok couldn’t just _stop_ walking. They had entered through the forest beside the main dirt road, and the ground was declining. Hoseok had his eyes fixed on the other torches from the men that were on the same road as him for some kind of guide to see what was in front of him. He tried to catch his breath, his mind racing to think of exactly _what_ were they doing here, with such a number of men. Wet leaves and branches snapped when he went to get through, and he heard above him the how the wind howled.

 

He almost tripped on his feet when the ground beneath him dipped suddenly and his feet crunched on wet sand.

 

Hoseok almost fell _again_ when the trees had cleared and they were in front of the mouth of the forest, the smell of salt pierced his nostrils as the wind hit his face full force.

 

They were at the beach.

 

Hoseok saw then, the beach with its rocky shores and steep cliffs that dipped and jutted out rocks out to the sea when he couldn’t see on the main road, farther away. It looked like blobs of gray from where he was, but unmistakably there were boulders and bigger ones that lay menacingly, the waves washing over them. They had come down to the beach...

 

“Uncle, what, what—”

 

Hoseok felt a hand pull his hair from behind him, and his uncle seethed.

 

“What did I say, boy? What did I say? Silence is your weapon. Silence is how _you_ can _defend_ yourself. So am I going to hear you babble on like an idiot, Hoseok?”

 

Hoseok writhed, but he made no sound. He couldn’t.

 

His uncle let him go and stomped heavily past him on the sand. The robbers who were already there shouted out, voice loud with panic and triumph, that something was _coming,_ that something was here and it had _arrived,_ what they had all been waiting for.

Hoseok walked slowly, having not the threat of his uncle on him anymore, he stayed a little behind from the large group, but he _heard_ them still.

 

“She’s coming in lads! She’s too early! Reel her in, to the rocks! To the rocks!”

 

“She can’t see with the rain!”

 

“We’ll get her, _get her!”_

 

“Can’t see with the rain!”

 

“ _Here she comes!_ ”

 

Torches were held up high and they all waved it in the air. They all looked out to the sea, but to Hoseok, the waters were pitch black. Their torches and lanterns looked like flying, blazing orbs in the dark, and the fire shone down on the hideous criminals when they swung it side to side. They were all yelling amidst the rain, some even jumping, some were yelling instructions.

 

It looked like lightsticks…

 

No.

 

No way.

 

The downpour, this storm, the darkness of the night without a moon in the sky...

 

They were at the beach. It couldn’t be.

 

Hoseok saw it then, the shape of it out in the sea when the sky was illuminated with thunder, carried away and beaten by the unforgiving waves helplessly.

 

They were trying to lure in a ship, acting like a lighthouse, or, as  _guards_ at the shoreline.

 

His uncle was in the middle of it all. His uncle was orchestrating this disastrous play.

 

No... No _. No._

 

Hoseok lurched forward and grabbed his uncle’s hand in the air, pulling the torch down.

 

“Uncle, no! Don’t do this!” His voice was so high he almost squeaked, he couldn’t see with the rain battering down on his face and the thunder that striked shook the ground, but he pleaded, for them to _stop,_ please God stop—

 

A horn blew and echoed, low and booming.

 

The ship had arrived.

 

It couldn't be stopped. It was headed for the rocky shores.

 

He heard the wooden mass groan under the pressure of the waves and was pushed, out of control, into the rocks.

 

Hoseok dropped to his knees. His uncle laughed.

 

The crash was _loud,_ the sound of what he could only imagine to be the hull of the ship breaking and splitting as the mass of it all croaked and groan. He could see the sails ripping, whipped wildly in the storm and tearing itself apart from the mast. It was all so loud that Hoseok’s ears rang. There were screams all around him, of joy, and there were also screams from inside the ship, screams and wailings and _screams of agony._

 

Another giant wave, and the ship was smashed, again, again, to the push and pull of the waves... The ship, was wrecked. Hoseok didn’t see it, but he could _hear_ it.

 

The criminals cheered. He heard his uncle’s voice in between them, far from him then when he let the bastard go. His uncle fitted right in with the savages.

 

It felt like his whole body was underwater, pulled down deeper into the cold sea, waves upon waves lapping above him and closing in so quickly he thought he will never escape it.

 

He couldn't breathe, couldn’t move—

 

A hand seized his shoulder.

 

Again.

 

“ _Hoseok,_ ” the unfamiliar voice whispered his name so harshly like it was always on the tip of their tongue, only then it finally spilled over.

 

It was his Auntie Lee.

 

“Hoseok, please, save yourself.” His auntie kneeled in front of him, cupping his face. Hoseok felt tears and raindrops on his cheeks dropping to her thin hands. Her auntie was crying, as hard as he was.

 

She must had followed them all here.

 

She must had known, when she was in the inn, yesterday.

 

“Auntie—” But Hoseok was pulled into a hug before he could say anything, and his Auntie Lee heaved, crying into his shoulder, muttering between sobs he could barely understand, but she kept repeating that he should _go, save yourself, go far away from here, please find your mother Hoseok, find her—_

 

Hoseok gasped, his mind reeled at the word.  Find his _mother?_

 

“Auntie!” Hoseok moved to hold her, desperation and confusion bringing some life to his limbs and he tried to hug her, to try and calm her shaking figure.

But Auntie Lee jumped back on her feet when she heard her husband roar from the clearing, so fast did she let him go that Hoseok choked on his words, sending himself floundering on the sand.

 

“A-Auntie, please, what do you mean? _Auntie!_ ”

 

_Where’s my mother?_

 

But it happened too fast. It all happened too fast. Hoseok couldn’t even stand properly, couldn’t even speak properly, couldn’t even see his aunt properly. He heard his uncle’s awful roar again, and he saw it all in a split second.

 

His uncle came bounding towards them.

 

His hand was outstretched.

 

The knife pierced his Auntie Lee faster than she could make any sound at all.

 

Her body dropped instantly. Soundless.

 

Even in her end, silence. His Auntie Lee...

 

His uncle turned towards him.

 

Hoseok sobbed. He got up on his feet. He sobbed so hard, and he started walking, towards his uncle.

 

Hoseok untied the dagger on his belt, turning it in his hand. He had never held one before.

 

“Why did you kill her?” Hoseok’s voice was hoarse by then as he yelled out in the steady downpour, his pace towards his uncle never stopping.

 

Hoseok was angry.

 

“Why did you _kill_ her, _uncle?_ ” Hoseok had snarled. But his uncle had only smiled. Vaguely Hoseok heard horns again, the sound different than before, but he found it mattered almost to _none_.

 

He was furious.

 

His uncle wasn’t smiling anymore when Hoseok decided he would not ask again.

 

His uncle certainly wasn’t smiling at all, when Hoseok launched himself forward and drove the dagger straight into his gut.

 

The blade slid into his uncle so easily, like butter on a hot evening. When he pulled it out, it was also as easy. It made him dizzy. His uncle collapsed.

 

The smell of iron overpowered him.

 

His uncle laid there on the sand, face down, unmoving. Unmoving. Soundless. Hoseok had stabbed him. Hoseok had probably killed him. He was shaking. Hoseok had _killed_ —

 

All at once his body pounded with _shock._ He dropped the dagger as if he had touched hot iron, the uneven sand letting his knees give way when he stepped back in a pit. Tremors ran through him uncontrollably, and he heard the air horns again, again, _again._

 

It didn’t belong to his uncle’s gangs.

 

Hoseok saw Hyunwoo and Jooheon, riding on horses down from the cliffs with their men.

 

 

    Hoseok was seized the same way as before, but this time he didn’t even wince when the rope bit into his limbs. He was found guilty for being here, and in that moment it felt like he should be tied up like this. The rain had slowed to a drizzle. The guards who had tied him up took shelter under the forest's canopy, while he was sat out in the cold. 

He didn't know where the criminals who were caught were brought to, but he'd assume their death was evident. What gave him shivers whenever he remembered was the fact that Hyunwoo pointed directly at him, and shouted to his men that he should  _not be killed._ When Hyunwoo looked at him, there was an expression he didn't know if he wanted to find out what it meant. What he didn't know couldn't scare him or puzzle him so much. Ignorance is bliss.

 

But he was also silently afraid that ignorance might cost him his life one day.

 

One guard had hauled him to his feet out of nowhere, scaring him awake from his thoughts. Amidst his confusion, he also saw Jooheon peeking out from behind trees, and what looked like a cabin was a bit farther in.

 

The air in the hidden cabin was thick since it located in the denser parts at the mouth of the forest. Hoseok couldn’t have noticed it when it was still pitch black, but dawn was breaking through with its thin rays of light through the cracks of the wooden wall, and the rain had probably stopped. The only candle that lit the room up for some more light swayed every time the door was opened for the guards.

 

Jooheon had his eyes on him, and Hoseok couldn't tell what emotion must the guard was feeling right then, because of what reason, simply because there would be many.

 

Maybe anger, because they thought Hoseok lied that he wasn’t involved? Maybe frustration and betrayal, because they had trusted him enough to let him go? Maybe  sorrow and guilt, because they believed him when he told about the woman and thought they _really_ should have _not?_

 

They probably had a thought along the line of when they had first caught him, they should have killed him like the others, so that they could have prevented all of this from happening. They probably—

 

“We saw what happened.” Jooheon spoke slowly, and knelt in front of Hoseok. He only saw the guard’s knees, too overwhelmed with guilt to try and look at him in the face, his turmoil slowing down to process what the guard said.

Still, in the silence Jooheon continued, his voice a bit lower, “ _I_ did, for a second, but I did.” Hoseok could only glance up a fraction.

 

“You killed him.”

 

This time, Hoseok did wince out of pain.

 

“I had to. You know then, I had to.”

 

“I know.”

 

Another door inside the cabin opened, and Hyunwoo held someone up as they walked into the room. The man, no doubt a lord with what Hoseok saw in a split second he wore, sat far from him, Hyunwoo in the middle in between. Jooheon also retreated to stand closely to the lord.

 

The lord… Was in shambles.

 

His, what seemed to be and what Hoseok thought, expensive clothes, was washed out by the seawater. Hoseok could see the red of blood stained his collar and inner shirt. His robe was torn and seemed to be used to dress his wounds, along with some bandages they must have brought for him.

Inside the room when he didn't see Hyunwoo, the guard must have helped the lord patch up. Hoseok could see his hair pulled back, and there were cuts on his temple and lip. He looked awful.

 

Hoseok probably looked like this too. His clothes was wet with the rain and sand had stuck everywhere on his pants; he could feel it fall off whenever he moved the slightest bit.

But he couldn’t bear to look down and see what his shirt looked like, be it his own blood or from…  

 

Hoseok realized the lord was probably the only survivor from the wreck.

 

“What’s your name?”

 

He snapped up in surprise. The lord spoke to him.

 

“I— My name is Hoseok, my Lord.”

 

He saw Hyunwoo and Jooheon acknowledge it too.

 

But the lord, with his eyelids low and exhausted, only scoffed lightly. “How could you call me a lord now, Hoseok?”

Hyunwoo whispered out _Hyungwon_ but the lord… Hyungwon, only continued, his tone held back the fury Hoseok saw in his eyes.

 

“Do you know what you have done? What all of you have _done_ to not only _me,_ but this _country?_ ”

 

Hyungwon sounded like he was going to cry, but also like he was going to execute his death sentence.

 

“I wasn’t...” Hoseok felt despair choke him back, and he bit down the lump that lodged itself heavy and large in his throat. “I wasn’t involved in this.”

 

“You weren’t? And am I not talking to you now?”

 

“I didn’t _do_ anything!”

 

With his own outburst, Hoseok cried again.

 

Even though he was still holding it back, he couldn't breathe, heaving in breaths and he couldn’t see, having shut his eyes as the tears kept coming.

 

 _Why did this happen to me?_ He wanted to ask, but he never could, not to himself nor to anyone. _What did I do to deserve all of this?_ He couldn’t bear the answer that will never come.

 

Hoseok felt a hand on the top of his head.

 

He jerked back wildly, fear striking into him so hard he almost screamed. But, Hyunwoo…

It was Hyunwoo, who still extended his hand even though Hoseok reacted like how he did, and laid it on his head, his back towards Jooheon and Hyungwon.

 

“Hoseok is not involved in this,” When Hyungwon started to complain, Hyunwoo turned to look at him, his hand still on Hoseok.

 

“I’ve told you this before when I was treating you, Hyungwon. Kihyun said there’s something about Hoseok, and we all trust in Kihyun, don’t we?”

 

_Kihyun._

 

Where did he hear the name before?

 

Hyungwon was fast to shut his mouth when he heard that name. Jooheon was hugging him where he wasn’t bandaged, and he saw how Jooheon was whispering something. It was probably to comfort him, because he turned to look away and sling an arm around the guard. After what seemed to be seconds of silence but felt like an eternity to Hoseok, he saw a tear fell on the lord’s cheek.

 

“Losses are losses. I can’t look at him.”

 

Hoseok tried to say something, but Hyunwoo was faster to shake his head at him, telling him not to. Still, he couldn’t just be quiet.

 

“I’m sorry,” He felt like his voice was just a ghost of a whisper, and he _should_ be sorry. Everyone in this room knew each other, and by the looks of it, knew each other _very_ well, and for a very _long_ time. He tried not to sob. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry...”

 

“Being sorry won’t bring the back dead.”

 

It came from Hyungwon, and although his voice was small, Hoseok heard it loud and clear. He continued, wiping at his cheek and keeping his gaze away.

 

“Even though I don’t _want_ to let you go, I’ll have to. Hyung had told me about what happened when he met you earlier.” Hyungwon shook his head. “Your, _ability..._ ”

 

It felt like everyone in the room held their breaths in for a moment when Hyungwon said that.

 

“...Is too dangerous if it falls to the wrong hands.”

 

And so…

 

It all came down to this.

 

His ability. His _curse._

 

Hoseok couldn’t even try to beg for his life anymore. He knew it was coming.

 

Hyunwoo withdrew his hand from Hoseok’s head. He hung his head down and waited for it to come, for his death sentence to be spoken into existence by Hyungwon. Or Hyunwoo, or even Jooheon. Because it would all still end up the same way no matter who would say it finally.

 

But it never happened.

 

Hyunwoo moved to cut through his ropes, similar like how Jooheon had done earlier in the day. He couldn’t help a confused sound from escaping his lips, but still Hyunwoo only rose to his feet without saying a word. The guard retreated back to the hugging two, and embraced them both as well.

 

Hoseok felt guilt churn in his chest like molten lead. They all looked like a family, and they looked so small curled up in each other’s arms. Hoseok saw Hyungwon’s hand tremble, but they all made no sound except for more comforting whispers.

 

And what he had to call a family had tried to kill one of them for money.

 

All at once, he was suddenly aware of the stinging pain in his palm, from where he had bitten it, pounding to the beating of his heart.

 

Hyungwon was the first to let go in the hug, and walked with Jooheon’s aid until he was out of the cabin. Hyunwoo followed, and he only paused in his tracks and spoke again when he saw Hoseok still sitting down, looking up at him.

 

“You will follow us to the castle, Hoseok.”

 

     When Hoseok stepped out of the cabin and into the cold morning breeze by the sea, the smell of blood and death still polluted the air. The soldiers who had tended to the bodies— the corpses from the shipwreck, and from the gang of criminals they had executed, it seemed— had secured their cargoes and greeted Hyunwoo and Jooheon, and Hyungwon, solemnly. Most of them glared at Hoseok. He wouldn’t blame them. They were probably wondering why he was still walking as well. 

 

Hyungwon got on a cart with a few of the royal men to guard him, while Hyunwoo and Jooheon had rode their own horses. Some of the men didn’t have a ride for them, and Hoseok readied himself to walk. But Hyunwoo had called to him, laying a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

 

“You’re riding with me, Hoseok.”

 

He almost balked.

 

“It’ll be— It’ll be too disgraceful, Sir, I should walk, really...” But Hyunwoo was staring at him then, his eyebrows knitting together. It made his bumbling complaints die at his throat.

 

“I don’t know… How to.”

 

“How to what?”

 

“Get on. That.”

 

A beat passed between them two.

 

Hyunwoo suddenly pulled Hoseok under his arm while he was also held by the waist onto the horse, startling a yelp out of him, and a smaller one from the animal as well. Hoseok could only clamber on and try to sit as, how one would _sit_ on a horse, as best as he could, with Hyunwoo behind him. The guard had made some room for him, and Hoseok felt him hold him in place.

 

“Hoseok.”

 

Hyunwoo had said his name so kindly, unlike how he basically almost handled him like a sack of grain.

 

“Yes, Sir?” His voice was small when he answered, and Hoseok found the horse’s mane, long and a bit coarse under his palm and fingers. He didn’t want to stroke it,  simply because the wound on his hand wasn't dressed, and he was thinking about the risk it could bring if the horse didn’t like it and throw them both off.

 

“I hope you’ll have a better life.”

 

Hoseok could only hold on to Hyunwoo’s hand that wrapped around him when Jooheon signalled for everyone to move with a blow of his air horn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting warmer now  
> Thank you again to my beta reader!  
> Also for my rosebud, love you


	3. Get Used to It

      Hoseok never knew how to ride horses, never having the chance to afford one for himself and never thinking of mounting one in his small little life. He was hanging on for dear life the first few gallops, and after a while he knew he wouldn’t get used to it. But he guessed, there would be a first to everything, even the discomfort of riding a horse. A first for everything...

 

And it all started with that stranger on the market.

 

He could never forget that man.

 

The silhouette of him, with his blue robe and piercing eyes, drifted in and out of his mind as the horse galloped through the road. He wanted to ask Hyunwoo if there were any guards that he had ordered to talk to him in the market, but it didn’t seem likely that Hyunwoo would also ask the same thing.

 

_Where are you from?_

 

Somehow it felt different when the man had ask him that. It didn’t feel like Hyunwoo’s question, asking him where he had come from. It felt like the man was asking him something more.

 

Hoseok thought for a while, if he will ever get to see who he was.

 

The horse under them huffed and puffed, and it pulled Hoseok gently back from his thoughts. He felt for the first time in the past few days how much he could at least _breathe in_ the air without tasting some kind of bitterness, figuratively or literally. The speed they were travelling at scared him to no end; feeling like he would be thrown off any moment, the height dizzying him every time he looked down, but he got used to it quickly. He found himself being able to swallow his nausea and, enjoy the wind while it lasted.

 

It slipped his mind since he was scared shitless throughout the first few gallops, but later on Hoseok thought the feeling of someone holding him steady was also a first time for him. Hyunwoo never let him go, but didn’t loosen his grip too. Hyunwoo was kind. But it would probably be too inconvenient if he fell off anyway.

 

Hoseok suddenly sneezed. It was probably because of the wind in the morning. Hyunwoo huffed behind him, probably surprised, but didn’t say anything. Hoseok wiped at his nose as best as he could, shuddering quietly.

 

The pace they rode on didn’t slow, but didn’t pick up as well. It looked as if the men were sectioned from the most important, to the ones who would stay back and patrol. The cart Hyungwon was on was a bit further in front of them, and Jooheon rode from side to side of the group. Until some time, he saw Jooheon slowing down to ride beside them.

 

“Hey.”

 

Hoseok couldn’t imagine trying to talk while riding a horse, but Hyunwoo answered the guard still, with a similar greeting. Jooheon kept glancing down, at him, and Hoseok felt himself fluster.

 

“Uh, hi. Sir.”

 

“Do you know our names?” Jooheon spoke with such ease while he was riding the beast, and Hoseok was, admittedly, amazed. “I don’t think I can handle someone older than me calling me Sir.”

 

“You earned the title, Jooheon.”

 

“I’m not talking about that.” He spoke to Hyunwoo, a little whine rising timidly in his tone, but when he was speaking to Hoseok again, it was his usual voice. “If you want, you can call me Jooheon too. But probably not in front of the castle people, and not when you’re outside either. Just when you’re with us.”

 

“How do you know I’m older than you?” He couldn’t help but ask, and that made Jooheon grin.

 

“I haven’t even manage to grow a stubble, so, y’know.” The guard made a gesture to point at his chin, and belatedly Hoseok felt around his own. There was some, true. Jooheon probably noticed it in the light of the day, since the earlier tension wasn’t there anymore, and he was really _looking_ at him. Hoseok heard Hyunwoo chuckle softly behind him.

 

Hoseok felt himself blush, slightly embarrassed. At _what_ exactly, he couldn’t tell. Probably because Jooheon was younger than him? He felt old, suddenly. “I know your names. Nice to meet you.”

 

“Pleasure’s mine, hyung.”

 

Hoseok, unfamiliar with the title, nodded, and he saw Jooheon laugh as he rode away.

 

The land grew steeper ever so slightly, rising to a hill. Hoseok only noticed because there were more flowers beside the road, and the air was clearer. He took a deep breath in, nerves tickling the ends of his fingers, which in turn really, only made him _more_ nervous. But, to his quiet surprise, Hoseok heard faintly of water flowing, the sound distinct from the sound of horses’ shoes clapping on the ground, or the squeak of a cart’s wheels. He tried to find the source, but the sound slowly whispered away as they approached the castle grounds.

 

Hoseok had never been this close to the castle’s area, but they were outside the mighty wooden gates, almost black-mahogany greeting Hoseok reluctantly. He really wanted to run.

 

But the gates still creaked and pulled open to make way, and Hoseok was still carried inside the castle grounds. When he heard the gates _clang_ shut behind him, there was no way he could get out. He really thought he had come to terms that he will be staying here from then on, but it still made his head _reel._ What the hell was he doing here?

 

Something shiny caught the sun’s light and brought Hoseok’s attention to it.

 

They were still at the outer part of the castle, but it was so pretty Hoseok made a noise.

 

The ground looked like it was painted with gold, or probably a colour that was deeper and dark, maybe a colour he couldn’t possibly name, but it was beautiful. And the clearing was _clean,_  goodness. He couldn't possibly imagine how the castle workers kept everything so clean that it shone under the sunlight. Hoseok found it interesting for a change from the markets he had been to and the inns he had to sleep in, admittedly. The walls that encircled the place was tiled with blue gems and glass, a royal blue, shining when Hoseok turned his head and it reflected in the light. It was the King’s colour… It really was beautiful, it quieted him.

 

There were also stables for the horses and a small cabin for the men that had just arrived inside, and Hoseok was tugged on his arm to the side.

 

It was Jooheon, and Hoseok could hear his laugh when he saw Jooheon smile up at him.

 

Suddenly, Hyunwoo held him under his arms.

 

And it _tickled_ so _much,_ but he bit any giggle that tried to push itself out from him harshly back down, and let himself be maneuvered off the horse and into Jooheon’s waiting arms. Of course the younger had noticed, but probably because they were at the castle, he had restrained himself. He let out a breath, rubbing at his face. Hoseok didn’t want to think about what he would do otherwise.

 

Hoseok did want to think about how lovely it would be if he could be friends with Jooheon and Hyunwoo.

 

It would probably be a long time before it could happen.

 

Hyunwoo unmounted his horse, and a soldier came to take the beast away. Both Hyunwoo and Jooheon made quick work to remove the outer part of their armours, and Hoseok stood by, fiddling with his own stained shirt. Hyunwoo finally spoke to Hoseok when he had taken off almost all of the metal on him.

“There’s a room for washing and cleaning up just beside the stable area, Hoseok. You will find it close by, so do what’s necessary. I will bring you something to wear.” After that, he addressed Jooheon, but they spoke more quietly, with  the younger nodding at every of his whispered words.

And soon, Jooheon went off, waving at Hoseok and into the castle. Hyunwoo all but waited for Hoseok to leave and find the washing room, even gesturing to the direction of it, and Hoseok made his first step into his castle life.

 

By taking a shower.

 

It wasn’t a bad start; really, it was honestly _better_ than what he could only ever imagine when he’d set foot in the castle, outer part or not.

 

Finding the washing room next to the stables, he opened the door and found that it was built to be on top of a stream; he could see clear water of the river and he could hear it flowing against the wooden tilings. The floor itself, he noticed, was slightly submerged, and that there were wooden tiles in front of the entrance that was raised slightly higher, probably to ensure the water wouldn’t flow out of this room. The water flowed inside the floor from the slightly higher part of the room, and out to the lower part, and he found this would help supply clean water for washing.

 

Looking in the middle of the room, Hoseok saw there were stools, to sit on and bath perhaps, low on its heels. There were also racks on the wooden walls, towels folded neatly on them. Hoseok found it must be convenient in a lot of ways, putting anything that shouldn’t be soaked on top of it. So, the sound of water flowing that he had heard outside the gates…

 

It was a river, that ran through the castle grounds. It was probably naturally flowing here, and the castle people had adapted to use it as a washing place like this. It was such a nice place to clean himself, and there were no one using it at the moment. Gingerly, he got in and closed the door. There wasn’t anything to lock the door from the inside, but he thought it would be alright.

 

Hoseok didn’t waste any time peeling off the ruined shirt he wore, sticking on him in places because of the rain and his own sweat. He discarded his pants next and put them both aside in a wooden basket. The tattered slippers he wore was off in a second, Hoseok put in the same basket as stepped into the cold water.

 

The water hit his skin like _sparks_ making him jump on the spot, but the water was soothing on his burning skin.

 

He could’ve _yelped_ like a little kid, but he didn’t. Embarrassed and feeling seen even though there wasn’t anyone, he sat down on one of the stools. The water came up to his thighs and knees, and only then did he truly realize how warm his body was. He still squirmed a little, even ended up sneezing a few times, the cold water reminded him of the winter still. He let his swollen hand run in the water, feeling relieved it was cold and numbed at least the throb of pain. There was a bucket in front of him, and peeking inside he saw there seemed to be soap, capped in a translucent bottle. He doused himself with water again, _wincing_ at the cold, but he really _needed_ to wash.

 

Hoseok uncapped the bottle of soap and poured it on his hand, his uninjured one. He could smell faintly of flowers, something that was with a sweet scent. He didn’t hate it, and he made a mental note to clear his nose since it felt clogged. He put the bottle down somewhere he wouldn’t knock over and soaped himself up and scrubbed, hard, at his arms. Then his feet, his neck, everywhere. Dousing himself again, he looked around to find if there was anything else that was provided in the washing room.

 

He found a small knife, laying just on the lower racks.

 

There were no mirrors, but...

 

He picked it up, and felt around his chin. He wanted to shave, disliking the feeling of hair there. He had done this before, and luckily enough it went— _smoothly_ , this time as well. He washed the knife in the water and stood up to retrieve the towel, drying the knife first before setting it down where he found it and patted himself dry. He took another towel to wrap around his shoulders, and stepped away from the washing area.

 

He found more stools at the back of the room, but at different heights. Hoseok figured it was probably akin to a waiting area, and chose the highest one that made his legs dangle close on the water surface. He ought to wait for Hyunwoo then; he didn’t want to go out only in towels and smelling sweet to find the guard.

 

Just as a sneeze tickled his nose, the door was pushed wide open, and this time Hoseok _did_ yelp like a little kid. “Oh, _God_...”

 

Hyunwoo shrugged, perhaps apologetically, but Hoseok saw he had brought some clothes for him. He tiptoed in the water to take it, and when Hoseok returned to his spot to start putting them on, he saw Hyunwoo still at the door, unmoving.

 

“Um. How may I help you?”

 

“I need to see if the clothes fit.”

 

Hoseok deflated, holding the garments tight to him. “You could wait outside...”

 

He saw something he couldn’t identify in Hyunwoo’s features, something like concern…? But the guard only looked at him, before breaking his silence and told that Hoseok should knock if he was finished, and closed the door. Hoseok thought he would never get used to the kindness he was given. He would never get used to _anything_ in the castle.

 

Gaining his privacy again, Hoseok slipped on the shirt and pants. He was careful not to let the clothes fall to the water or accidentally dip it in there. This part was when he thought it was a little bit inconvenient about having the floor just flowing with water, but otherwise he still liked this washing room. Even though he had a bit of a hard time with himself not entirely dry and the shirt kept getting caught at his damp limbs, he successfully worn them. Aside from everything being a little oversized and not; the sleeves of the shirt covering his palm and the pants a little fit around his thighs, these were nice clothes. No loose ends or tattered threads, not shredded at places.

 

Probably the nicest set of clothes Hoseok had ever owned at this point of his life.

 

He huffed at himself, disliking the sadness that it brought him every time he thought about everything that brought him here. But he was _here_ already, whether he wanted to or not. He found the strings on the collar of the shirt and tied it, closing the wide v-neck. He dried his hair again with the towel and ran his fingers through them, trying to brush it in a way to make it look decent. As decent as it could look without him having a mirror to judge, really.

 

He tried not to splash his way so much to the front door, afraid he would get his pants soaked. He peered into the basket of his old clothes and wondered if he should keep them. He could faintly smell the metallic scent, and decided otherwise. He knocked the wooden door twice and pushed it open, and he saw the guard there, standing ever so ominously.

 

Or he thought the guard was… Anyone who towered over him felt menacing to Hoseok.

 

“I’ve finished. My apologies for making you wait, Sir.”

 

As Hoseok stepped out, he saw there were ankle boots placed in front of him. He looked up, a hundred questions on his mind but none that managed to spill out. Was it for him?

 

Hyunwoo simply nodded, and gestured towards it and then to Hoseok.

 

Hoseok fumbled to dry his feet on his pants, standing on one leg while he rubbed it dry and doing the same with the other. He dropped to his knees and tried them on. The material of the boot was still firm and wasn’t breaking at any areas even though it looked like it was used once. It fit him just nice, not tight nor was it too loose. Hoseok stayed on his knees. “I can’t possibly thank you enough for this, Sir. You’re too kind.”

 

He heard the guard give a short sigh. “You heard Jooheon earlier. You can call me my name, Hoseok.”

 

He spoke so softly. Hoseok almost teared up. When Hoseok looked up at him, the guard had a little smile. He really wanted to be their friend. “Thank you, Hyunwoo.”

 

“Come on, get up. Let’s get inside.”

 

Maybe this can be a start. He should really find a way to get used to it.

 

         Heat and flames blazed from the fire pit. Searing hot water was used to douse the linens and clothing of the royal people, and he had to use his hands to wash them like the other laundresses without exception. After washing, he had to dye them the colour of the King, a rich dark blue; as perfectly without any bald spots whatsoever, as he could. But for dyeing, the water should not be warm, as it would make the process of the dye sticking to the cloth difficult.

 

And so, he had to haul cold water from the river, to wash off soap and to begin dyeing. Going outside, it was freezing cold, to the point it had numbed his entire arms. Heat and flames inside, then biting bone-deep cold outside.

 

This was the job in the castle Hyunwoo had helped find for him. Hyunwoo, and even Jooheon, who joined them later on as they walked into the laundry room, insisted this was the safest job for him. What puzzled him was how the King declined their visit, or declined to _see_ Hoseok. Only Hyunwoo was summoned, and after getting out of the King’s chamber, he followed the guard who went straight to the laundry room, where he met the chief laundress, and that was how Hoseok went to work under her. He wasn’t thinking of complaining at all, better for him to keep his head on his neck after all.

 

If the King wanted nothing to do with him, Hoseok wanted to make sure it stayed that way.

 

His Highness, Kihyun… He knew of His name when Hyunwoo mentioned it, but not how He looked.

 

Hoseok did wonder what kind of man His Highness was, who had easily spared his life.

 

But that wonder was quickly replaced with _fatigue._ The chief laundress immediately assigned him tasks and told him to get on to it after she showed him how to, lightning quick and prompt. Although not unkind, she was strict with her orders, he wondered why wasn’t she a soldier. Hyunwoo and Jooheon too retreated to their places after a short while of telling him to work hard.

 

He never knew laundry could be so _consuming_ of his energy and focus. He had to haul buckets of water from the river and return through the back entrance of the laundry room, pour the water into other buckets and to different kinds of fabric. He had to scrub the stains _hard_ so it wouldn’t take up too much of his time, since there were a _lot_ others to tend to. His hands hurt from the harsh soap and scalding water. His shoulders ached from the strain he carried fresh cold water outside.

 

Hoseok was hungry.

 

He looked around the busy room. The other laundresses, who at first snickered at him for reasons he couldn’t possibly think of, were occupied with their tasks. He saw how quick they worked, how experienced they were with years of hard work in their veins even as they made small talk between each other. They were by no means playing around, but they were strong enough to make everything they did look easy. A few from their group had already hung a few linens up aside to dry by the fire.

 

Hoseok looked back at his messy work. The blue dye powder wasn’t even properly mixed in the right amount, it looked lighter than the King’s rich blue. He sucked in a breath.

 

Hoseok was so hungry.

 

There was a laundress beside him, working silently as well. He tried to get her attention. “Excuse me, miss.”

 

The laundress only gave him a jerk of her head, telling him to speak faster probably.

 

“Sorry, the chief laundress, where is she?”

 

“Don’t know, kid. Don’t bother me.”

 

He shut his mouth. The chief laundress would understand his situation, if he could just find her.

 

He stood up, washing the dye off his hands. He felt so dizzy, standing up so suddenly again. And it was  _hot,_ the flames around him felt like it was too close. Was the room always this small and suffocating?

 

“Hey, you’re the new laundry boy. Where are you going?”

 

Hoseok was stopped when he felt a hand grip around his wrist. Someone was talking to him. He slowed his walking, and before he could stop it a groan escaped him. His head pounded.  “Sorry, sorry…”

 

“Why are you apologizing? Hey!”

 

Hoseok stumbled and almost fell face first, but the person who was talking to him held him fast. The whole world spinned slow, he saw stars.

 

“What’s wrong with you?”

 

There was concern in that voice. He wondered if he deserved it.

 

Hoseok was dragged on his feet to... Somewhere. The person who caught him from falling flat was the one who had their arms around him and taking him through the hall. They kept talking, but in intervals and so softly he couldn’t understand. His ears rang, and he desperately tried to walk with the person. They noticed, and hurried their steps.

 

They arrived in what seemed to be a kitchen. Hoseok was set aside a bit farther from the working cooks, and the person disappeared from his side. He probably blacked out for a second on their way from the laundry room. The kitchen was almost as hot as the laundry room, and as busy. But there were food here…

 

He couldn’t get up.

 

Suddenly, a cup was pushed on his lips.

 

“You can drink this. It’s tea, with medicine.”

 

Timidly, he took a sip, almost certain he should be trying whatever he could to help himself.

 

It was _bitter_ as _hell,_ fuck.

 

The other probably noticed him cringing, but they hushed Hoseok down and tilted the cup to let him finish. Hoseok could have gagged. He hoped it would do something and help him. He probably had a fever. It explained the discomfort he felt in the morning. “Thank you, thank you so much, and I’m sorry…”

 

“If you feel better enough to talk, stop apologizing to me. You did that the last time too. Tell me instead, what’s your name?”

 

“Hoseok… I’m Hoseok, Sir.” The man in front of him who talked fast and said a lot, blinked once, and… He wasn’t sure if he was seeing things, but it was uneven and he thought the man winked at him.

 

“I was right, then. You’re the guy hyung picked up at town.”

 

The man nodded at himself, and grinned a little. “I was wondering what you were like. He even said he hoped you’ll get used to the things around here, and here you are. Almost dying on your first day of your new job, huh?” He gave Hoseok the cup of tea and stood a little straighter. When Hoseok didn’t say anything, he chuckled a little.

 

“Do you know who I am?”

 

Admittedly, he didn’t. So he said just that, before sipping on his tea.

 

Slowly, Hoseok realized the kitchen went a little silent. The clang of knives on wooden boards and ladles hitting the bottom of pots still echoed sharply, but there were no more talking.

 

Hoseok paled. The man didn’t dress like a castle servant at all, his robe in rich blue and accented with gold.

 

“M- My apologies, for not recognizing you… Sir?”

 

The man gave out a small laugh, and shook his head. He was still smiling when he turned around. “Get something to eat and finish the tea, Hoseok.”

 

Hoseok was left alone then, a warm cup of bitter tea in his hands as he was sat on a crate of vegetables.

 

He finished the tea, _bitterly,_ and before he could get up, someone stomped right up to him.

 

The chief laundress.

 

Her face was pulled tight. She was angry, he could tell enough without her saying anything.

 

She raised her hand, and he ducked into himself immediately because _she was going to_ —

 

Put her hand on his forehead.

 

He heard her going _tut_ - _tut_ and sighed a bit raggedly. “Why didn’t you tell me? Or even Hyunwoo? You’re sick, boy.”

 

He felt tears well up inside him. “My apologies… I’m sorry, I didn’t…”

 

The chief laundress was quiet again aside from another long sigh. Even though she was still annoyed, he could see the clear concern.

 

“Take something to eat and rest for the evening. I can’t have you fainting in a bucket of dye.” She pulled Hoseok to his feet, and he bit down a sob. “But you will work tomorrow. Rest, don’t cause trouble.”

 

“I will,” he faltered. He was grateful. “Thank you.”

 

      The room quarters for castle servants were divided evenly according the their capacity. Kitchen workers and laundry workers used the same quarters, close to their respective places to work. Walking outside the room, Hoseok found he should arrive into the kitchen, before the laundry room. He found this arrangement to be this way so that the laundry workers would be able to get something to eat before working, and have something to eat after as well. The kitchen was like a brief rest stop for all the servants, and it was connected to every place before starting one’s work for the castle workers.

 

It was easier to remember the way for Hoseok when he understood it that way.

 

Finding the room he was supposedly assigned to sleep in, he chose a clean bed which looked unoccupied enough and let himself lay down. How soft the mattress was under him, and how he should probably cover himself with a blanket properly, barely registered in his mind before he drifted to sleep.

 

_Get used to things..._

 

When he woke up, he found that some workers must have had dyed his hair blue.

 

Because the tips of his hair was fucking blue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been YEARS I'm so sorry I've been so dead
> 
> Thank you everyone who have waited or remembered that this fic still exists I have no words but I'm very very grateful to each and every one of you, those who left a comment or those who didn't I'm still happy! Please take care and thank you again! Hope you enjoyed this small update


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